The Guardian
by CassTheCurious
Summary: WIP Harry-centered. Harry travels back in time and goes undercover with MWPP. Updated 11-18-03.
1. Author's Note

9/11/03:

Okay, I've updated and re-loaded the new versions of my current chapters.  Hope you enjoy.

I've also explained the method of travel at the bottom of this note.

Author's Note:  
  
All right. More because I want to than anything, I'm changing the whole thing to be OotP compatible. I've already gone through and edited - I'm up several chapters.  
  
Here's the layout:  
  
0; A somewhat prologue is in the works; Flitwick and McGonagall are fashion consultants 

1; Harry prepares 

2; Harry has entered the building

3; Harry shops and buys a new broom 

4; Harry travels and befriends a timid Ravenclaw boy 

5; Harry is sorted and the feast 

6; Harry meets the Marauders

7; Harry's first day, a chat and a connection he never anticipated about Remus  
  


Now, school's started, and life has relapsed into its familiar chaos.  I'm still working on this year-round, but don't expect constant updates. 

As for the pensieve things, it's just a leap of magical logic.  

Now, I have a theory when it comes to magical time-travelling.  In case you haven't noticed, wizards generally need _objects_: wands, crystal balls, and brooms are all good examples.  Harry can make things happen when he's angry, but beyond that he usually needs a wand to be able to do anything.  This confirms my belief that wizards have tons of raw power, but they need a conduit of some sort to get it out or manipulate it on a regular basis.  

The existence of time-turners is yet another example.  My belief is that it's really the witch/wizard wearing it that controls where the time turner goes.  My turning it, the wizard comes into contact with it – the more time they have to turn it, the more power the time-turner attracts from them, enabling it to do its job. 

In Goblet of Fire, Harry could enter Dumbledore's memory, right?  But he couldn't interact with the people there or change anything because it was… two-dimensional.  It was Dumbledore's memory, and he just wanted it out of his head so he could examine it objectively.

However, Dumbledore is an extremely powerful wizard.  The hardest part of time-traveling is finding a proper outlet – thus the pensieve, which is ideal as both Dumbledore _and_ Harry are using raw magic to send him.

Oh…

Especially on the 2nd anniversary of September 11th, may God Bless America.

  
-CassTheCurious


	2. Prologue: The Fashion Show

7-26-03  
  
A/N: To one of my recent reviewers, who asked why I cried....  
  
(Somewhat OotP spoiler)  
  
Um, maybe this is just me, but I LIKED the character who died. And if I cry when CEDRIC kicks the bucket, I definitely would for....ahem.  
  
(6 and 1/2 hours? Pretty good - better than any of my friends so far. I got it at midnight... got home and started really reading at 12:40, and finished at 7:45, with an hour break...)  
  
You know, my mom just finished the part where he dies, and she called me in and said, "Oh, it was just- far less upsetting than Cedric's death." Um... I am in total disbelief - I LIKED..er, him. She didn't like him... GRR!  
  
Then again, she's a mom. I guess a kid's death would be more upsetting for her.  
  
A/N 2: This chapter explains Harry's looks, but that's about it. I'm still working out what to present where due to the release of Book 5...  
  
The chapters are going to start coming out much slower while I work this stuff out, plus I start summer school this week...  
  
Prologue:  
  
Of all the ways he had imagined starting the year, this was not one of them.  
  
McGonagall was deeply involved in a book on personal charms. She had already attempted four charms to tidy his hair; however, none had been very successful. While this only seemed to amuse Professor Flitwick, the tiny man soon found he was just as baffled by Harry's eyes. He was taking his problems much better than McGonagall was. Harry supposed the life of a fashion consultant suited him. He had cringed appropriately when he took away Harry's glasses.  
  
The boy in question found it hard to keep still for so long, while two of his favorite teachers attempted charm after charm on him. McGonagall had given up on her book and was now seated at the desk, looking through a thick scroll, muttering to herself. She seemed to be personally offended that his hair was warding off her magic. Finally, she stood up and strode back to Harry and cast her newest spell with a hopeful tone.  
  
The back of his neck tickled as his head curled in tendrils. Somewhat hesitantly, he reached his hand up to feel his now-smooth hair. He looked to McGonagall in awe. "How did you find that spell, Professor? Hermione's gone nuts over it, but she's never been able to fix it!" He imagined the look on Hermione's face if she saw him now.  
  
McGonagall smiled slightly. "My brother used to use that spell to glue his hair to his head. Luckily, it has a lesser effect on your... look."  
  
She began to scrutinize him further, and took out a roll of magical measuring tape. She took down the measurements as the tape called them to her, then fed them into what looked like a normal sewing machine.  
  
"Blue."  
  
The sewing machine immediately whirred to life, but it's magic soon showed itself. Out of nowhere, it was creating a pair of dark blue robes fitted to him.  
  
"Now, Mr. Potter, I'm no Madam Malkin. Your background is that of a magical-upbringing, so you should have some wizarding robes. I recommend you buy further sets as soon as -"  
  
Flitwick chose that moment to place an exceptionally powerful charm on Harry's eyes.  
  
"Ow!" Harry moved instinctively to cover them and protect them from the burning, but Flitwick jumped up and grabbed his hands. "No, no, let it set. Good, good..."  
  
Harry sat on the stool for a moment, still yearning to scratch his own eyes out and wondering where they put his glasses. Flitwick made a frustrated squeak. "They were supposed to turn brown! Brown!"  
  
McGonagall scrutinized him carefully. "Well, they are a lighter shade of green - honestly, Potter, what have you done to your eyes? They should be far easier to change!"  
  
It went on in this fashion for some time. Harry estimated it had been about an hour when Flitwick stepped back from him and smiled. Harry wished he hadn't, because now he could only see a short blue mass in front of him, about Dobby's height. He mulled over the idea that Flitwick had house elf blood in him.  
  
"Finished!"  
  
McGonagall grabbed Harry's arm and led him to the far wall to look into the mirror. Hesitantly, he reminded her that he couldn't see without his glasses. He felt her press a pair into his hands and put them on. He looked at his reflection and started.  
  
His hair was flat, and either McGonagall (or the sun, now that he thought of it) had brought out a couple more raven highlights. His glasses were silver now and slightly more rectangular. And his eyes - his eyes were now a very, very, pale shade of green. He had a fleeting glimpse of someone about to be sick, their face being the shade of his eyes. Harry's gaze drifted up a bit - and he sent a questioning gaze to McGonagall.  
  
She sighed. "We couldn't actually do anything for your scar - Dumbledore said he wouln't be able to, either. Just try parting your hair differently." She handed him a brush, and he confusedly tried to use it. After all, his hair had never actually done what the brush wanted, so this was a new experience. He experimented a bit and then brushed his hair to the other side of his forehead, leaving the scar well-hidden.  
  
He stepped back and studied himself. Perhaps Ron, Hermione, and definitely Dumbledore, but no one else would recognize him.  
  
McGonagall sent him off to pack his things, and then to report to Dumbledore's office. On the way up to Gryffindor Tower, he ran his hand over his hair in awe. 


	3. Packing and Journeys

1969 (?) : Lord Voldemort's reign of terror begins.

1980 (July 31st) : Harry is born.

1981 (Oct. 31st) : Lord Voldemort attacks the Potters.  James and Lily are killed, Voldemort delayed.  Either this night or the next, Harry is sent off to live with the Dursleys.

1991 (Sept. 1st) : Harry's first day at Hogwarts.

I decided against directly putting them in the story – here are Harry's marks.

Harry's O.W.L. Scores 

Transfiguration Theory: Exceeds Expectations 

Transfiguration Practical:  Exceeds Expectations** 

*Overall:  Exceeds Expectations

Charms Theory: Exceeds Expectations

Charms Practical:  Exceeds Expectations

Overall:  Exceeds Expectations

Potions Theory: Poor

Potions Practical:  Exceeds Expectations

*Overall:  Acceptable

Defense Against the Dark Arts Theory: Outstanding

Defense Against the Dark Arts Practical:  Above and Beyond.***

*Overall:  Above and Beyond

Care of Magical Creatures: Exceeds Expectations

Divination: Dreadful

History of Magic: Poor (concern of illness registered for SIQ by overseer; SIQ led out of exam early)

Herbology Theory: Exceeds Expectations

Herbology Practical:  Exceeds Expectations

Overall:  Exceeds Expectations

Astronomy Theory:  Exceeds Expectations

Astronomy Practical:  Acceptable **

Overall:  Acceptable

Total:  11 O.W.L.s 

*  Worth two O.W.L.s

** (registered distraction; Ministry of Magical Education review pending.  For more information, contact Svish Kabbob, Assistant Minister of Magical Education)

Special notice *** This student scored a perfect score and showed one or more advanced spells for more credit.  For more information, contact Assistant Minister Kabbob.  This score counts for three O.W.L.s

I know I over-did Harry's scores, but I know little about the British education system.  (My half-British friend recently informed me with no small amount of horror that her mother was a Prefect and House Captain.  I had thought it was something Rowling put her own twist on.  :::looks very sheepish:::)

Anyway, the information I looked up is mostly turning out public school stuff, so I decided to wait until book six.  Especially as we don't understand how the O.W.L.s work, and what effect that bonus point will have on Harry's score.  Also, I counted the classes up, and unless the other over-achievers used a time-turner, there simply aren't enough classes to get twelve O.W.L.s.  There's always the chance that the schedule just happened that Bill Weasley or Percy or Bartemius Crouch were able to attend more classes than normal, but I don't think that makes sense, so I made the core classes worth more.

CHAPTER ONE 

Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower, and headed up the stairs to the boys' dorm.  It looked the same as always with its warm scarlet tones and the sweeping view of the grounds from the window.

Though the sight of his dorm usually made him feel better, with the reminders of his friends and the comforting feeling of being home, this time he found himself wondering.  What had this dorm looked like 20 years ago?  Had this been his father's room?  He tried to do the math… No, his father should have lived in what was now the 5th year dorm, assuming his math was right.  (He made a mental note to check with Hermione on that… no, wait, no point in that.)

He opened his trunk and took everything out in great piles, then placing them on the bed.  If he was going to go, he should think carefully on what to take with him.  He separated the clothing, the books, and the personal objects into 3 piles. 

The clothes were easy enough to decide on.  He threw almost all of Dudley's old things into the wardrobe, and reminded himself to ask Ron to do something with them – preferably burn them.   He packed all of school robes, even the dress robes.  He would be going to Diagon Alley in the past, anyway, so he could order some daywear robes, then.   He kept all of the sweaters that Mrs. Weasley had hand-knitted for him.  To his chagrin, the one from his third year was short, but still fit him well enough, though it was rather tight in the arms.  

He painstakingly charmed off all the old indications of being a Gryffindor student.  It took a while to get rid of all the patterns on his sweaters and the Gryffindor logos, but he finally did it.  He put them in an old box along with the ties.  After thinking a moment, he pushed the box under his bed.  Hermione had told him once that since wizards had so many charmed hiding places, the usual Muggle ways of hiding objects were overlooked.  Few wizards thought to use trick cookie jars, false freezer doors, or – oddly enough – the areas between the mattresses or around the bed.

Luckily, the pointed hats the Hogwarts students were required to have weren't on the old list, so he put those under the bed as well.  They were hideous things, in Harry's opinion.  Even now, none of his teachers expected them to be worn except on special occasions.  He suspected that the teachers couldn't tell the difference between students with the hats on.

Looking through the list, he was happy to see that about half of his books were still standard for Hogwarts, though a few books he needed to get earlier editions of.  And some he wasn't going to use at all, such as his Divination book and Potions book.  After some thought, he decided to take all of them anyway, after charming a different cover on it.  There were undoubtedly recent discoveries documented in his books that he could end up using.  To his considerable dismay, _Quidditch Through the Ages_ had not been written until the 1990s, so he couldn't take it back.  

He would take the Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map.  While the cloak was a rare possession, he could keep it in the bottom of this chest.  If he absolutely needed to bring it out, it was believable enough that he had received one as an inheritance from an old relative.  

The Map, he was sure, looked completely different after 20 years of wear.  The edges of the parchment were worn and torn in one or two places, but it was still as useful as it had ever been.  The Map was blank, in any case.  Perhaps he could charm a basic, but removable drawing of Hogwarts and its main areas.  He could tell anyone who asked that that was how he knew his way around so easily, and then no one would be suspicious that he always carried it around.  He couldn't let anyone from the past see it, under any circumstances….  He would have to look up more information to add on some more enchantments and maximize its usefulness.  

Harry also packed his Broomstick Repair Kit, Sneakoscope, and the lute Hagrid had made him in his first year.  He packed his Firebolt and put it in Ron's wardrobe, along with a note for him and Hermione.  Shakily, he went through a box full of Sirius's letters, the melted knife, and the cracked pieces of his mirror.  Idly, he wondered where the partner was.  Lying on Sirius's bedside table at Grimmauld Place, gathering dust?

Steadying himself, he performed both a vanishing charm and a sealing curse on the box, and put it in his trunk.

When he felt the leather surface of his photo album, however, Harry felt his heart sink.  There was no way he could take it, was there?  Feeling a bit shaky, he opened to the first page.  His parents – would they look like this when he saw them again? – waved at him from the photo, with Harry as an infant between them.  

Every time he saw them, Harry couldn't help but think of how happy they looked, even Harry himself.  Was there ever a time when he felt that content? 

Well, they wouldn't have their arms around each other when he saw them, that was for sure.

In the last few pages, Harry had inserted the few pictures he had of Sirius.  Sirius's skeletal figure next to a shouting headline, Sirius in an Order picture, making bunny ears behind Mundungus Fletcher, and Harry's favorite – Sirius and him talking over the table in Sirius's kitchen.  

Hermione had snapped it when they weren't looking.  Harry couldn't remember exactly what they were talking about, but every now and then the picture Harry would grin and Sirius would let out a bark of laughter.

He considered not taking the album, but even if he didn't see his parents in the same light he used to, he still needed them.  He would need this assurance that his parents would end up all right, at least for a while.  And Sirius….

He shut the album firmly and set it on the night table.  He'd talk to Dumbledore about it.

He double-checked to make sure he had everything.  It was interesting how his entire life could fit into a medium-sized trunk.  Rather sad, too.  He then levitated his trunk and headed down to Dumbledore's office.

He had to do his best to stay objective.  He could not risk damaging the timeline.  Of course, he had fiddled with the idea of changing time, but dismissed it almost immediately.  Even if he were willing to do it, he would probably just ruin everything.  He tried to think about it logically.  If he changed what happened in the past, then his parents might never marry, or one could die, and he might never be born, which would defeat the whole purpose.  He was surprised at how selfish he was feeling.  

Besides, if he were never born… wouldn't that mean that he wouldn't exist, so couldn't go back to change the timeline again?  

And what if he warned Sirius not to go near the Veil?  Would that change things?  Even if Sirius acted the slightest bit off…. The whole thing was beginning to give him a headache.

When he got to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall, Hagrid, and Flitwick were already there.  Dumbledore was involved in a new found bag of lemon drops, and was currently feeding one to Fawkes.

Flitwick seemed to be concentrating hard on charming a pensieve.  McGonagall was looking on with her intent gaze, but her gaze moved up when Harry entered.

Hagrid clapped him on the back, almost making his knees give way.  Hagrid looked ecstatic and proud, a watery grin on his face. 

"You'll do good, 'Arry, I know you will.  And think!  The chance to see Lily an' James!"  Hagrid, of course, had no idea that Harry was half-dreading seeing them.  Harry gave him a nervous smile in return.  Flitwick seemed to have finished.  He nodded to Dumbledore once, looking tired.

McGonagall looked him over once, then nodded.  "Good, Potter, good."  To his surprise, she smiled, too.  "_Do_ try to have some fun while you're there.  But don't fall behind on your studies.  Oh, and it's perfectly all right if you join the Quidditch team from then; you'll have to get an older broom of course."  She laid a hand on his shoulder.  "Your parents would be very proud of you right now, I'm sure."  She handed Harry his transfer papers.

Flitwick looked on, cheerful as always.  In a voice somewhat squeakier than normal he spoke to Harry.  "I'm sure you'll do well, Harry.  And Minerva's right, your parents _would_ be proud; Lily always was a favorite of mine."  With a start, Harry realized how good those words still made him feel.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling more than ever.  "It is time, Harry.  Is everything in order?"

Harry found himself nodding, then caught himself.  "There's one thing, sir."  He pulled out the album.  "I'd rather not leave this behind if I have a choice."  He paused.  "I was thinking, maybe you could help me."  Hagrid laid his hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him another smile.  He grunted, "Glad to see you've been keeping that."

Harry shrugged nervously.  He felt strangely drained.

Dumbledore looked through the album, brow furrowed, while McGonagall gave Harry a soft look.  "I know just the thing, I think." 

She took the album and muttered a few words. Suddenly, a golden glow enveloped the book, and shimmered away as she opened it once more.  She flipped through to make sure everything looked all right, then handed it back. 

McGonagall continued talking as he put it in his trunk.  "Now, Harry, everyone looks very different." She went on to describe their altered looks.  Apparently, she used a spell that would change the portraits' looks by switching some characteristics with others in the album pictures.  "…All the pictures that were taken in recognizable areas, like Hogwarts or Diagon Alley, now look to be in a countryside or in front of a generic room.  Your friends still look the same, though.  And, of course, you'll be able to see through the spell."

Dumbledore shook his head amusedly.  "I don't think Sirius would appreciate being a blonde."  Sirius had switched hair with a girl in the background at one of the Quidditch games.  While it would've looked ridiculous on someone else, it suited Sirius's great looks.

Harry grinned and thanked McGonagall, moving over to the pensieve.  He called Hedwig, who dug her talons into his shoulder.

Dumbledore raised his wand and winked at Harry.  "Good luck, Mr. Graham."  Dumbledore began an odd chant, and Harry watched as the pensieve swirled.  In the back of his mind, faces and locations flashed just below the surface, disappearing and re-appearing rapidly.  

Voldemort's leering face…. Sirius's haunted eyes…. A terrified girl, cowering from a troll…. Dudley's gang….  The images came faster and faster and he couldn't tell what he was seeing…

Dumbledore spoke to Harry, "Now, touch your wand to the surface." As if in another world, Harry watched the tip of his wand touch the swirling mass, and he felt the world start to spin away.


	4. Meetings

CHAPTER THREE

Harry immediately got a room from Tom, the barkeeper and owner of the Leaky Cauldron.  Tom looked about the same, but this one had a few teeth.  In Harry's opinion, it was not much of an improvement.

Harry got the same room he had gotten when he stayed after he blew up his Aunt Marge.  The dark wardrobe stood on the opposite wall next to the window, and the mirror greeted him cheerfully and began to tell him of the sights he could see in Diagon Alley.  He tried to be polite, but had to cut the lecture short after grabbing his money and setting off.

First, he went to Madam Malkin's to buy some day robes, like the ones he had seen other wizards wear.  Madam Malkin seemed the same as always, professionally snatching him up and beginning the measuring, all the while talking his ears off.  He hesitantly picked out sets of red, blue, and at Madam Malkin's urging, green.  She waved him off and he set off for the next store, weighed down with his purchases.

At Flourish and Blotts he got all the books on his list from an assistant, and then browsed for a replacement for _Quidditch Through the Ages_.  He found one promising book, listing the most famous plays of the world and how to do them, and set off much happier.

He went to a pet store to get some more food for Hedwig, and found himself looking at the snakes.  To his amusement, two copper-colored snakes were having an argument about what kind of rodent was the best dinner, with the other snakes in the area throwing in their own comments. 

He set off for the potion shop to restock his student supply, and ended up buying a few useful ingredients while he was there.  To his surprise, he glimpsed a far younger and only-slightly-less-greasy Severus Snape there.  Snape seemed to be taking a few tips from the owner, who talked to him the entire time while he rung up Harry's purchases.  Snape greeted Harry's stare with the same sneer he would twenty years later.  Harry stayed just long enough to prove he wasn't afraid, then stalked out of the store, highly unnerved.  His real home suddenly seemed much farther away.

Harry was extremely tired and his bags felt heavier than ever, but he had saved the best for last just for that reason.  He headed to Quality Quidditch Supplies with a determined gait.

Unsurprisingly, there was a gaggle of people of various ages gathered outside the store, marveling at the latest broomstick.  Harry edged through them, resorting to the use of his bags as battering rams at some points.  He took a cursory look at the various Beater Clubs and different-colored Quaffles, then stopped at a bright display of Snitches.  They were all waving enticingly, and he fought back his seeker urge to grab them.

He made his way to the counter and waited behind a girl with long wavy black hair, who seemed to be upset with the counterman.  He waited while she complained quite rudely to the employee, and then she stalked out the door.

Harry gave the man a sympathetic smile, then asked some questions about the latest broom.  This seemed to cheer the man up quickly.

"Ah, the Comet 100!  Yes, it's just got out on the market – heard the Soviet team's already ordered ones for every player, you know how they are.  It's mighty expensive, but well-worth the price-"

Harry interrupted, "I'm sure it is, but what about its speeds?  Brakes?  Defenses?"

The clerk considered for a moment.  "Well, some of the experts are saying it's a bit too fast – too hard for the everyday wizard to control, they think, but I think a real Quidditch player could handle it."

He continued, "The brakes are far better than usual; I think they learned their lesson from that unfortunate incident in Egypt.  The government there is still trying to cover up the damage to that giant Sphinx.  Anyway, it's awfully hard for another team to jinx, but not impossible.  It's got the bond system, so you can insure it'll only respond to you or someone you tell it to.  Rather good system, I think."

"How much?"

At the clerk's answer, Harry thought it over quickly and bought it.  It was expensive, sure, but nowhere near as much as his Firebolt had probably cost.

He had the clerk wrap it, and then slipped out the side to avoid the crowd.  

He arrived back in his room and dropped his bags on the floor, arms feeling significantly longer than they had before.  He gave Hedwig some of the treats, ignored the mirror's questions about what sights he had seen, then crawled into the soft bed and immediately fell asleep.

He didn't bother opening his eyes.  The sun was slowly warming the room, Hedwig was sleeping on her perch, and he could hear the rumble of conversation on the floor below him.  Morning had arrived.

He lay in the plane between the real world and his confused dreams for a long time.  Off and on, he felt like he was flying on his broomstick, then the rays of the sun warming his skin, then he felt himself landing and joining in a group hug with his teammates, and then he heard the rustle of Hedwig's feathers.  He finally gathered the energy to turn over and check the clock, and saw that it was approaching seven o'clock.  He must have been really tired.  He was used to going to bed around two and waking up around six.

Somewhat grumpily, he showered and dressed, and then fed Hedwig.  He sat down to sort out his purchases and pack them into his trunk, which took an hour by itself.  Once he was sure of everything, he headed down to the pub to eat.

He had always enjoyed watching people, and today was no exception.  He contentedly munched through his meal while covertly scrutinizing the other patrons.  He saw a lot of harried parents, who were there to buy their children last minute school supplies.  He also took care not to be seen staring by the gloomy looking group of warlocks in the corner.  Somehow, he didn't think it'd be a good idea to provoke them.

Around 9:30, he asked Tom for the best way to get to King's Cross, and at what time he should go.  Tom advised him to Floo to the Wizards' Bureau at King's Cross, and find his platform from there.  He took great care to explain the process of getting through the barrier to Harry, then bid him good luck.  Harry sent Hedwig ahead, to spare her the journey by Floo again.  She seemed to hate the process more than he did.  He then gathered his trunk and her cage and set out for King's Cross.


	5. King's Cross and Dennis

CHAPTER FOUR 

Harry wrestled his trunk onto the train and set off to find a compartment.  He wasn't sure if he wanted to be by himself or not, but it was early still.  He made his way to an empty compartment in the very back and set his things in there.  He brought out his new Quidditch book and sat down to read, barely noticing the noise level rise as more students came on.

As it neared time to leave, no one disturbed Harry.  Just when he thought he'd make the whole journey without interruption, the door slid open.  A black boy about his age looked it, rather timidly.  The boy was even shorter than Harry, with a short cut and rather ruffled robes.

"Sorry, but all the other compartments are full.  Can I sit here?"  He looked terrified that Harry would say no, or perhaps curse him.

Harry smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way.  "No problem.  Come on in."

The boy looked as if he couldn't believe his luck.  He set his trunk down opposite Harry and sat down.  He looked absolutely terrified at being alone with Harry, and even more so when Harry spoke to him.

"What's your name?"  The boy jumped, colored slightly, then responded.

"Dennis Averallo." 

"Nice to meet you.  I'm Daniel Graham.  What year are you in?"  He decided not to try to shake Dennis's hand.  The boy might think he was attacking him.

Dennis smiled a bit, seeming to be more convinced of Harry's friendliness.  "Oh, I'm a sixth year.  I'm in Ravenclaw House."

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, I think McGonagall said something about the houses.  I wasn't really paying attention.  I'm a transfer student here.  I'll be in my sixth year, too."

Dennis looked interested.  "Really?  I didn't know you could do that."

Harry shrugged, then asked for more information about the houses.  Dennis's voice was unsure at first, but when Harry didn't seem to be making fun of him he became more talkative, and flew into detailed explanations for each house.

"-And there's Slytherin House, full of buggers and future Dark Wizards, of course.  They're all horrible, actually.  Except this one girl, Malaya.  She's a fifth year, but she's pretty nice.  The others like to make fun of Muggleborns and Gryffindors, but more than anyone, me."

Harry was surprised.  "Why?"

Dennis looked terrified again.  "Suppose you should find out now, rather than later.  The Averallo family is traditionally a Slytherin family.  I'm the first to take another house for about ten generations.  My family didn't take it well when I was put in Ravenclaw, and because of my family, a lot of the other students were afraid of me."

Harry nodded understandingly.  He knew what that was like.

"That would be pretty bad luck, but you seem pretty nice yourself."  Dennis looked delighted.  "So why do the Slytherins make fun of you, if you're from a Slytherin family?"

Dennis rolled his eyes.  "Because they think I wasn't _good_ enough to make it into their stupid house.  Those people have too much ambition and not enough common brains if you ask me."

A throaty voice interrupted Harry's response.  "Better not let Mother hear you talking like that."  The speaker was a slightly taller girl with long black hair, but she had the same perfectly oval-shaped eyes as Dennis.  She already wore her Slytherin robes, and would have been quite pretty but for the smirk on her face.

Dennis paled.  "H-hi, Alicia.  What do you want?"

She spoke vaguely, now making a close examination of Harry.  "Just checking in on my brother.  Making sure he doesn't get any ideas."  She now spoke sharply to Harry.  "And who are you?"

He smiled without mirth.  "My name's Daniel Graham, new student.  And_ you_ are?"  She ignored the question, and made another inspection of him, her eyes lingering a split-second too long on the empty space where his house logo should be.

Seemingly satisfied, she began talking again.  "It's good to meet you, Daniel.  Hope to see you in Slytherin."  She turned on her heel and left.

"Hope to never see you again." Harry murmured softly.

Dennis looked nervous again.  "Look, I'm really sorry about her-"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "Don't be.  Everyone has people they'd rather not know, much less be related to.  Believe me, I understand."

Dennis looked relieved and intrigued, and Harry decided he may as well tell him, with some twists to the story, of course.

"I live with my godfather; my parents died some time ago."  Before Dennis could say anything, he plowed on.  "When they died… well, the authorities wanted to send me to my mum's sister, who's a Muggle.  Problem is, the only thing she despises more than my mother is anything out of the ordinary, especially magic."  Harry sighed.  "She and her husband and my cousin treated me like I was scum under her shoe.  My godfather fought for custody, and they were only too happy to give me to him.  So believe me, you're not the only one with awful relatives."

Dennis looked sympathetic.  "It must've been awful, living with them.  But what about your godfather?"

Harry smiled.  He had never actually lived alone with Sirius – but he imagined how it would've been…

"Oh, Chris has been wonderful.  It's nice living with someone who was best friends with my parents, and he has all these stories about the stuff they did at school.  He wasn't keen on me going to Hogwarts, though.  I think he wanted me to follow in the footsteps of my dad and him, and continue their tradition of trying to break every detention record in the books.  I'm not interested it that too much, though, and from what I've heard, Hogwarts is the best."  He paused.  

Dennis nodded excitedly, then burst into another long talk about how wonderful the school was.  Even if he was picked on a lot, he did seem to love it there.  He waxed lyrical about the best subjects and the teachers Harry would love for some time, before Harry asked him a question.

"What about sports?  There's Quidditch, right?"

Dennis looked a bit sad.  "Yeah, there an inter-house competition throughout the year."  His gaze slid to Harry's Quidditch book, which was lying on his trunk, forgotten.

"I guess you like to fly, Daniel?" He seemed disappointed.

Harry's felt the familiar rush he always had when Quidditch came up, but tempered it a bit.  "Yeah, it's the best game in the world, I think."

"Going to try for your team?"

Harry shrugged.  "Dunno.  What about you… you like to fly?"

Dennis looked highly uncomfortable, but took a deep breath.  "Yeah, I do, but it doesn't matter."

Harry was surprised, "Why not?"

Dennis looked a bit sullen.  "Because I'm only an good flyer, not a great one.  If you can't be the best, there's no point in doing it, at least according to my parents."

Harry shook his head.  "Who cares what they think?"

"I don't know.  Me, I guess.  But, even if I did try for it, I wouldn't make the team.  People would think I was a joke."

"Not if we practice beforehand.  Why don't we fly together when we get to school?"

Dennis had on a slight grin.  He was looking at Harry a bit warily, giving the latter the feeling of holding a hot piece of bacon in front of a starving dog.

Dennis grunted slightly.  "Don't have a broom."

"Use mine.  If you make the team, maybe your parents will get you one."

Dennis looked a bit thoughtful, but undecided.  Harry let it go.

"What about the Headmaster?"

Dennis smiled.  "My family hates him, but I think he's doing a bang-up job.  It's actually kind of funny to hear my father ramble on about he's poisoning the minds of children."  

Dennis puffed himself up and began in a loud, obnoxious voice. " 'The nerve!  Giving our children all these ideas about Muggles and how we should have good relations with them!  Who knows what diseases they might carry!' "

Harry laughed, and Dennis grinned sheepishly.


	6. Sorted

CHAPTER FIVE  
  
No one bothered them the rest of the way there. Harry discovered that Dennis was actually quite funny once he opened up, and Dennis did several more impressions for him, including a funny one of Lucius Malfoy examining in his face in the mirror every day. Harry had no doubt that Dennis was spot on.  
  
Harry pretended to be enthralled with the scenery as they got closer to Hogwarts, and Dennis pointed out the looming rooftops of Hogsmeade as the train slowed. He had just finished explaining where Honeyduke's was when the train stopped and the stampede began.  
  
Dennis kept letting people push him, so Harry led the way off. Dennis looked on, wide-eyed, as Harry pushed back a group of Slytherins with a casual apology. Harry grabbed his arm and steered him out the door, and they both took a deep breath.  
  
Suddenly, a shadow fell on Dennis's face. Harry jumped to hear a familiar voice behind him. "So you'll be the new 'un, eh?"  
  
Harry turned around and smiled slightly. Hagrid was looking down on him kindly, and Harry noticed he gave Dennis a second look, much to the poor boy's horror.  
  
"Come with me, ya got to be sorted with the others."  
  
Harry gave Dennis a small wave and followed after Hagrid, and Dennis, clearly terrified, tore off the second he got a chance. Hagrid shook his head and yelled over the increasing noise, "Kid's still 'fraid of me."  
  
Harry grinned. "I wouldn't take it personally."  
  
Hagrid grunted and began his customary call. "Firs' years! Firs' years, over 'here!" Mostly in pairs or ones, a few dozen of scared-looking 11- year-olds gathered around Hagrid. Some of them looked at Harry oddly, but most were too busy trying to keep their lunch down.  
  
Harry followed closely behind Hagrid until they approached the lake. He got in a boat by himself, then was joined by two pale twin girls, who gave him wary looks. He smiled, then grabbed one of the oars and began to row.  
  
He didn't know how long it was before they got their first sight of the castle. The first years gasped and squealed, and Harry felt far calmer; Hogwarts always gave him a feeling of security. In the back of his mind, he remembered that his parents were in there, and he felt a shiver down his spine.  
  
"Cold?" The girls, or at least one of them, had decided that he wasn't about to push them off.  
  
They spoke lightly for a few minutes before they reached the opposite shore. He helped them both out of the boat - they both giggled at that - and they joined the pack following Hagrid.  
  
The whole scene gave him a strong sense of déjà vu. Hagrid banged on the door to reveal McGonagall. She led them into a room off the great hall and told them to tidy up, only pausing to give Harry a second look. The second she left, the whispers began. It seemed no one in the group knew how they would be sorted, and Harry decided not to tell them. How would he explain why he knew? Besides, he thought a bit sullenly, no one had told him.  
  
He gazed around the room as the 11-year-olds fretted until McGonagall came to retrieve them. He felt the butterflies in his stomach start to flock together and his eyes wander to the right. He lectured himself sternly. He would not attract attention.  
  
The others gasped at their first sight of the magnificent Great Hall. Floating candles lit the room, and the house banners hung over the tables, and the overhead sky was clear. A sudden sense of warmth and comfort engulfed Harry, and he locked his eyes on the teachers table.  
  
He skimmed over Flitwick, Tome, McGonagall, and Hagrid, and locked eyes with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded to him slightly, and he smiled back. He took a deep breath to steady himself, and let his gaze wander from the Slytherins of the left, over to the rest of the Great Hall. He found Dennis at the Ravenclaw table, but Dennis didn't see him. He willed his heart to slow down and he looked to the Gryffindor table.  
  
They weren't hard to spot. His mother - she was so beautiful - was sitting in the middle, smiling at a joke one of her friends had made and watching the new students with ill-concealed eagerness, her curiosity shining through. Her prefect badge shone in the light. Harry flicked his gaze from one head to another, and easily found a boy with hair as messy as his own.  
  
James Potter was grinning mischievously at the first years. Harry was sure it was for a far different reason, though. Sirius Black was sitting across from him, grinning insanely. His hair was shorter, just brushing his ears, and he looked care-free, not knowing the horrible fate destiny planned to hand him.  
  
Next to Sirius, a far less haggard looking Remus Lupin rolled his eyes, and across from him - Harry fought down the bile in his throat when he saw the rat. Pettigrew was laughing at something, and watching the proceedings with interest. He was sitting next to the boy who he would one day betray.  
  
Suddenly, Pettigrew locked eyes with him. Pettigrew looked startled at the intensity of Harry's gaze, but smiled politely and turned around, looking unnerved.  
  
Driven by hate, Harry looked to the Slytherin table. No, no.. Yuck, there was Malfoy, the nasty git. he spotted two Crabbe and Goyle look-alikes, but he didn't see Lestrange off the bat.  
  
None of the students seemed to be too concerned about him. He figured his height made him blend in well enough in the group. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or annoyed by this.  
  
Harry turned to McGonagall and fought down the bitter taste he felt in his throat. It would do no good if he attacked Pettigrew or anyone else out of nowhere. Dimly, he realized he had missed McGonagall's direction. The hat yelled for "Able, Michael" to go to Gryffindor, and the house exploded in applause for him.  
  
He took several deep breaths and reminded himself that his name was Graham, not Potter, and that he went by Daniel. He felt the roaring in his ears subside a bit, and he surreptitiously turned his gaze back to his mother, listening to the hat carefully. As it reach "Fife, Warner", he turned back to the sorting and prepared to be called. However, McGonagall called next for "Hunt, Nathaniel", and Harry stilled. He supposed they were choosing to call him after the sorted first years.  
  
The sorting seemed to take far longer than any other he had attended. He estimated at least 9 or 10 new first years for each house. And now that he looked, the house tables seemed more crowded than he had ever seen.  
  
Dumbledore wasn't exaggerating, he reflected, people were definitely sending their children where they deemed it safest.  
  
Finally, the line ended with "Young, Vivian", and Harry was standing alone. The students got a better look at him and began to murmur a bit, and everyone was watching him. This was far from a new development, so he kept his eyes level and ignored the stares. Dumbledore stood up, and Harry focused on him.  
  
"Today, we welcome a new sixth year student, Mr. Daniel Graham. Mr. Graham, it is your turn." Dumbledore was watching him closely to see how he handled the attention, sizing him up.  
  
Harry found his legs moving towards McGonagall, and he sat down and let her put the hat on his head - for what was this, the fourth time? It slipped a bit over his forehead, but he could still see the students craning their necks. He closed his eyes.  
  
The voice was familiar, definitely. Ah, Mr. Potter. What an interesting surprise. Now, let's see. Cunning, yes. Loyalty, oh yes. Talent, oh my goodness, yes. a thirst to prove yourself as more than a famous name, well you seem to have made good use of that. Harry felt a sliver of fear, and silently prayed the hat wouldn't put him in Slytherin. Oh, come on, you.  
  
It chuckled in his ear. No, no, don't worry. Slytherin's qualities may be prominent in you - and don't hesitate to make use of them, but that's not where you've chosen to belong.  
  
"GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He fought to keep his hands steady as he handed the hat to McGonagall, who gave him a pleased smile. He held his head high and strode to the Gryffindor table, finding an empty space a few seats away from his mother. Lily, he reminded himself forcefully. It couldn't very well call her "Mum" now, could he?  
  
The girl next to him turned and smiled as McGonagall took away the stool and hat. "Hi, I'm Victoria Thomas."  
  
He grinned back. "Daniel Graham."  
  
The girl to his right introduced herself, "I'm Susan Thomas." He looked back at Victoria and then to Susan again. Not identical, but they looked very much alike. "Fraternal twins?"  
  
Susan laughed. "Yes, we are."  
  
"There seem to be a lot of twins here, aren't there?"  
  
Victoria shrugged. "Twins are more common for wizards, I've heard. Our father was a wizard, but our mum's muggle."  
  
There was a brown-haired boy across from him. "I'm Evan Rose. Victoria, Susan, and I are all fifth years."  
  
Harry was pleased to have found such a friendly group, but he found his eyes wandering a lot. Evan went back to talking with the other boys in his year, but Susan and Victoria noticed his divided attention and decided to point people out.  
  
"-now Phillip's great at Transfiguration, but not much else. He's always blowing things up, otherwise. Adam's a nice guy, but not too bright, either. That's why they get along so well, I guess. That group down there is the Marauders." Victoria and Susan giggled in tandem.  
  
Susan continued, "There Remus Lupin - he's really nice, but he's absent a lot, he has some ailing family. He's really smart, too. And there's Peter Pettigrew." Harry fought down the anger and tried to look normal. Luckily, Susan didn't seem to think much of him, either.  
  
"Pettigrew's nice, really, but he's a bit of a klutz, and he has a lot of trouble here. Hero-worships the others, bit sickening. There's Sirius Black.." She took on a dreamy look.  
  
Victoria picked up, giggling. "Who's she's had a major crush on since first year. Sirius is smart, but he's not really the studious type. He's a major prankster - the whole group is - so watch out. The last Marauder and their leader is-" She sighed and took on the same look Susan had had a moment earlier. "James Potter."  
  
Susan added, "Who Victoria's had a crush on for the same time. James is on the Quidditch team and he plays a lot of pranks."  
  
Victoria started, "Sirius and James were best friends the moment they came to Hogwarts, and then they picked up Remus and Peter."  
  
The group continued talking about the people at the table, and Harry's ears perked up further when he heard his mother's name.  
  
Susan waxed lyrical about the redhead's qualities, her blue eyes shining - apparently she was a big admirer. Victoria merely looked bored, but noticed how intently he stared at the redhead. "Yeah, she's quite pretty, of course, but Potter's always hitting on her."  
  
Harry felt a shudder of revulsion. "Oh, no, that's not it. She looks so much like someone I knew. I can't remember." He pretended to be lost in thought.  
  
Victoria still looked suspicious, but let it slide. Susan picked up, "That girl sitting next to Lily is Matilda Gibaldi, and across from her is Monica Brown. They're all kind of a group. There's another girl, Lindsey, but she prefers to be with her sister in seventh year."  
  
Harry inspected each of Lily's friends with interest. What had happened to these girls? If he ever died, he would expect Ron and Hermione to have something to do with his child, if only to send a Christmas card. Why hadn't they? Had they split up right after leaving school? Or were they dead?  
  
In recalling the feast, Harry would never quite understand how he made it through without doing something, whether crying or punching out Pettigrew, to whom his gaze kept wandering.  
  
The feast passed in a sort of haze, and quite suddenly Harry found himself rising to go to the dorms, Susan and Victoria chattering the whole way.  
  
He feigned surprise at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, and gazed at the common room as if seeing it for the first time. He said goodbye to Susan and Victoria and headed up the boys dorm. He reached the dorm (Huh, he was right about the math for once. This was the fifth year dorm in his time) and opened the door. 


	7. Marauders Meet and Sirius Peeks

Tons of thanks to Lucy Fair for pointing out a mistake I made. (Instead of saying "sixth year", he says "fifth year") I originally placed this fic as Harry's fifth year, but then the book came out and changed everything, so I'm sorry that I missed that. Have a canary cream!  
  
And also thanks to kateydidn't for pointing out that I misspelled "fraternal". I blame it on my spellchecker this time, though. It keeps insisting that neither my name, nor the word "clear", nor the country "Portugal" actually exist, so it's a bit screwed up. This is a good indication that I need to look over my chapters more closely, though.  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
  
.and he saw something fly at him.  
  
Instinctively, he stepped to the side and it whizzed past, landing with a rather disgusting splut. It groaned and began to slide down the opposite wall. Harry took a closer look - apparently, it was another boy. And if he didn't miss his guess.  
  
"SIRIUS!" A boy that looked just like him (his hand instinctively went to fix his hair, only to meet perfectly in place locks) yelled at the still groaning form of Sirius Black. "What the hell did you think you were doing?!"  
  
Harry fell into the act. "Beside trying to scar me for life, you mean?" He added sarcastically and tried to look appropriately ticked off. Sirius groaned again from the floor.  
  
James Potter grinned. "Sorry, but Sirius is nuts. Forgive him." Harry felt an eerie shiver when he looked at his father. He remembered James's gleeful face in the pensieve.  
  
Remus Lupin was trying to hold back his laughter. "Though it was funny to see you finally get your due, Sirius."  
  
James grinned. "He's right, actually. Where'd you learn to move like that?"  
  
Harry just *looked* at him.  
  
Remus laughed nervously, obviously thinking he was angry. "Really, sorry about that."  
  
Sirius raised an arm and groaned louder. They ignored him.  
  
Harry shrugged and looked at Remus. "Don't worry, I don't blame you. It looks like he got what he deserved, anyway. Tell me, exactly what was he trying to do?"  
  
James only laughed harder - he was turning an alarming shade of maroon. Remus rolled his eyes. "He doesn't need something to do, just people to terrify."  
  
"He's going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that."  
  
James let out a whoop and clapped him on the back. "I think I like you already." Not necessarily a good thing, Harry thought darkly.  
  
Sirius groaned again, then grabbed onto James's leg. "Help.me."  
  
James just smirked at him. "It's your own fault you're down there, Sirius. Don't expect me to help you, you big oaf."  
  
Sirius, with a great deal of huffing and moaning, got to his feet. He glared at Remus and James, then turned to Harry with a huge grin on his face. "Hi, I'm Sirius Black."  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow. This Sirius was far more outgoing than he had thought he would be, but then again, Sirius probably learned to be friendly. Coming from a dark family, he would've needed all the friends he could get.  
  
"So I've heard." He waited a beat, then added, "I'm Daniel Graham."  
  
Sirius seemed unabashed. "Sorry, mate. Good to have another sixth year, though." Suddenly, he looked excited. "We outnumber the girls now! Yes!" And with that, he ran down the stairs.  
  
James, Remus, and Harry just looked at one another for a moment, all confused, until they heard several shrieks and a shrill voice scream, "BLACK! GET OUT!!!"  
  
The next few seconds were unintelligible, but they distinctly heard a thump and surmised that one of the girls had thrown something at Sirius. Then, they heard his footsteps descend the girls' stairs and go up theirs.  
  
James muttered, "Maybe we can lock him out."  
  
Remus shook his head sadly. "He'll just bang on the door all night."  
  
"Hey!" Sirius had heard them.  
  
"Hey, yourself!" James shot back. "What were you thinking, going into the girls' dorms?"  
  
Sirius grinned. "We outnumber them now! I wanted to rub it in their faces!" Suddenly, he scowled. "But I didn't see anything. Lindsey and Monica hadn't even changed yet, and Lily-  
  
James growled and hit Sirius upside the head. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."  
  
While the two continued to carry on, Remus said to Harry, "We'll show you the ropes tomorrow. You'll meet Peter, then, too. I think he's asleep already."  
  
"You can just go up to the girls' dorm?" Harry remembered Ron's attempt to go up the stairs.  
  
Remus shrugged. "There's a spell in place, but Sirius figured out how to get past it."  
  
James broke his conversation with Sirius to interject, "We're crazy - but we're fun!"  
  
Remus rolled his eyes, and Harry grinned mischievously, "We could lock them out."  
  
Hours later, Harry lay awake in bed. The Marauders were a shocking change from the friendly camaderie he had with his dorm mates. His year was divided into groups, but not these boys. They were open and friendly, and he immediately felt more comfortable with them than anyone else in this time. Then again, he surmised, that might be because he knew them already.  
  
But he still felt like an outsider. He felt a yearning for Hogwarts as he knew it. He missed hanging out in the common room till past midnight, ragging on Hermione and Ron in turn as they faced off. He missed Quidditch, and especially his Firebolt - but most of all, he missed Ron and Hermione.  
  
One of his biggest worries now was that his nightmares would come back with a vengeance when he was near these people. Never mind the fact that he was far better at Occlumency, he still got nightmares from his own mind. Seeing them alive only made him dwell on their deaths, and their murderers, Voldemort, Lestrange.. And Pettigrew - how was he supposed to handle him?  
  
He sincerely hoped this Peter bore no resemblance to Wormtail other than looks. Otherwise, he wasn't sure what he'd do, especially if he had one of those nightmares.  
  
He sighed, and turned over to go to sleep.  
  
Author's Note: You know, it was kind of interesting writing this. For fanfiction, I had to separate my desires and motivations from Harry's.  
  
And I discovered something about myself. My dad died when I was little, too, and most people say, "I'm sorry" the second they hear this. It gets rather irritating after a while. I mean, what did they do? From some people, it also feels so condescending ("Oh, you poor dear! How ever did you get along?" type of thing), though I don't think people mean it to be that way. I have had a completely normal childhood, and I have a loving mom. From my perspective, I think I'm pretty lucky. (Honestly, some of my friends parents!)  
  
But then again, it wouldn't do to have people going around saying, "That's too bad" or "That's life" to statements like that. Does anyone know of a good thing to say when you learn about someone's dead parent/loved one? I'm honestly interested in hearing it.  
  
AH! Sorry about the uploading difficulties - It looks actually nice on my Word program, but when I upload it. gah!  
  
Oh, and due to my several hundred reading of the various books and the fact that one my best friends is half-British (and uses the slang and drinks the tea :::eye roll:::), I'll probably attempt some of the British terminology. Emphasis on "attempt", please. Oh, and I'm still sticking to American slang for a lot of it, because Order of the Phoenix made me stop and think a couple times ("Why is McGonagall giving Harry a dog biscuit?"). Especially with "spotty". I've been told it means zits/acne/pimples, but to me it sounds stupid. Not flowing with that, dude.  
  
And I'm trying to keep the canon on this fic. Canon (to me) is both what's in the book and what Rowling has said. Screw the movies. Harry's father is a chaser, Lily and the Marauders are all Gryffindors, James was not a prefect, so on. So there.  
  
By the way, the Thomas twins are of no relation to muggleborn Dean Thomas, that I know of anyway. They keep me out of the loop on some things.  
  
I'm planning on exploring Harry's ambivalence toward his father, and the fact that he is still grieving for Sirius and he's not sure if being near him is making it better or worse. Deeper friendship with the more decent Remus, and encounters with both his hated rivals and (equally hated) allies.  
  
Oh, and we might see Skeeter, what do you think about that?  
  
We'll see more of Dennis, too, don't worry. And Harry's going to meet the Longbottoms. maybe he'll take some pictures for Neville.  
  
It's much harder to keep Harry in character than I thought. I still visualize him as being angry and frustrated, but now that the truth's out I think he'll be more focused. O.W.L. results will be discussed later. I've listed them already, but I'll discuss them at some point.  
  
I'll probably put more focus on Harry's dark side that usual, his lying talent (and how it's bothering him), his thirst for revenge, his manipulative and sadistic side Rowling's given us such startling glimpses of, and over all, his amazing will power.  
  
And lest we forget, our dear Harry speaks in tongues.... 


	8. Harry flips out and the First Morning

A/N:  I'm not really happy with this chapter, to be honest.  I was going for something else, but I've hit a block on this one.  I hope you like it – as always, read and review! 

Call for help:  I'm having trouble uploading.  I write in Microsoft Word 2000, and when I upload it as a word document, it eliminates special characters/italics, but when I upload it as a web page, there's too much space between the paragraphs.  Any advice?

CHAPTER SEVEN 

The sunlight cast shadows around him and reached out with its deceptively gentle rays.  As the sun hit his face and warmed his body, he began to toss and mumble.

Wait… sunlight hitting his face?  He dimly confirmed he was at Hogwarts – no where else were the beds so soft – but he was certainly not in his bed.  In fact the only dorm bed that was hit with direct sunlight was…

_AH!  What am I doing in Ron's bed?!!_

He shot up suddenly and did a mad half-jump off of the mattress, only to get tangled up in the sheets and land face-down on the carpet.

_Oh._  And with the blow, he remembered.

"Merlin, Daniel, are you going to do this every morning?"

Remus peeked out of his curtains, frown lines etched on his face.  He was fully dressed and had an open book on his lap.

Harry was still half-asleep. "Wha-?"

Remus climbed off his bed and reached out his left hand for Harry to grasp.  "Are you all right, Daniel?"

"'M fine."

Remus arched an eyebrow and grinned.  "Not a morning person, I see."  He looked around bemusedly.  

"You might as well join the club."  Harry followed his gaze.  James's curtains were drawn, as were Peter's, and Sirius was tangled in the sheets, mouth open and emitting half-snores.

Harry smiled a bit.  "'Kay." 

Still yawning, he clambered into his robes, vaguely embarrassed – this was his old _teacher_, after all. He tugged at the collar of his cloak – the neckline needed to be broken in.

Sometime in the night, his tunic had been given the Gryffindor emblem, and several ties lay at the foot of his bed.  House-elves certainly were useful.  He grinned – Hermione would have had a fit.

He began to make his bed, glancing over at Remus again.

"What are you doing?"

Remus glanced up.  "Studying.  I usually get up early and I need something to do."

Harry pulled back the comforter his way and piled his pillows at the top.  Not wanting to cut off the conversation, he asked, "What classes do we have today?"

Remus shrugged disinterestedly.  "We'll get our schedules at breakfast.  What electives are you taking?"

Harry stopped cold.  He didn't know.  "I guess the ones I took at my old school.  Divination and Care of Magical Creatures are taught here, right?"

Remus nodded.  

Harry threw a few random books in his bag.  Feeling uncomfortable, he took a look at the title of Remus's book.  

"Alchemy and Its Relatives?"  _Ten to one odds that Hermione's read it_, Harry mused.

Remus nodded a bit.  "Read it?"

"No, I don't think so.  What's it about?"

Remus glanced up.  "Oh, it just talks about the basic theory of alchemy and why muggles can't get it right.  And the tools wizards have wielded for it, too."  He paused.  "I guess you wouldn't know much about it."

Harry felt vaguely insulted.  "Alchemy?  The Sorcerer's Stone and Nicholas Flamel?  Eternal life and unlimited gold?"  Remus looked up, shocked.

Harry fought down the urge to smirk and said casually, "Yeah, I know a bit about it."

Remus met his eyes, his face eager.  "You do?  That's what I've been looking for!  This book only mentions it, it doesn't go into detail!"

_Uh-oh_.  _Nice move, Potter_.  

He took the defensive.  "Why so interested?"

Remus's expression became suddenly guarded.  His words had a forced casualness to them.  "Who wouldn't be?"

Harry accepted that.  Then it hit him – something that he had almost forgotten….

_"Harry Potter, do you know what unicorn blood is used for?"_

Firenze had laid it all out for Harry years ago.__

_"…All you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else – something that will bring you back to full strength and power – something can never die.  Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"_

_"The Sorcerer's Stone!"_

Voldemort himself had said that it could cure him, when he was little more than a shadow.

_"…and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own…"_

The stone restored its user to full health – couldn't it cure werewolf bites?

"What do you need to know about it?"

Remus looked up, amber eyes wary but searching.  "Everything!  Who has it, if there are others – what can it do?"

Harry sat down and considered his words.  

"The only stone known of belongs to Nicholas Flamel and his wife.  They've both used it.  I think Flamel is over 600 years old now.  Flamel's the man of legend, the one muggles say disappeared from his tomb after deciphering an alchemy manuscript."

Remus waited with bated breath.  Harry licked his lips.  "The stone itself can produce unlimited gold and produce the elixir of life – which make the drinker immortal, as long as they can continue drinking it.  The stone is believed to restore full power and full health to its consumer.  The stone itself is blood red, small enough to fit into the palm of your hand, and will immediately put its owner on the hit list of every dark wizard in the world."

Remus missed the significance of a hit list, but he sat, considering all the information.  He looked up, and Harry glimpsed the distrust in his eyes.

"How do you know all this?"

Harry sighed and subconsciously smoothed down his hair. "At my old school, I had two best friends, Ron and Hermione.  Hermione is really smart – she's always investigating everything and reading book after book.  She heard vaguely of the Sorcerer's Stone and went crazy trying to find out more about it.  She started dragging Ron and I into the library everyday and going on and on about it."  Well, at least he was half sticking to the truth.

"After about six months, she found all the information she wanted, then related it to the muggle legend – she's muggleborn."  

Harry made a show of rolling his eyes.  "But along the way, I learned more about alchemy than I ever wanted to know."

Remus seemed enthralled.  "She found out about it all on her own?"

_Uh-oh_.  "She did most of the grunt work.  By luck, I stumbled on Flamel's name one day and that led us on the path.  She put a lot of the pieces together, you know, the real work."

Lupin bit his lip.  Harry felt for him.  From Remus's view, if he pushed for more information Harry might get suspicious.  But how was he supposed to tell him that he already knew his secret?  Harry supposed he would keep searching on his own – he must've anyway.  _And he'll never go to Dumbledore to ask, that's for sure._

Harry checked his watch.  "How long 'till they usually get up?"

Remus shrugged.  "Who knows?  I think Sirius went out after us last night to do something – he does that a lot."

Harry felt a hunger pain hit.  He was surprised – he had eaten a lot last night, but he was beginning to eat more and more than usual.

He shouldered his bag.  "Well, I'm going down to breakfast.  Do you want to come, or are you waiting for them?"

Lupin closed his book and set it to the side.  "I suppose I'll go with you, there's no way you'll find your way there before it's over."

Harry shrugged.  "I'll be fine." He moved to exit the room.

Remus gave him a doubting look, but grabbed his bag and followed.

Harry ignored Remus until they reached the second floor landing, then frowned and pulled out the Map.  Remus looked over his shoulder and grinned. 

Harry shrugged sheepishly and led the way again.  "Well, maybe I didn't know it as well as I thought."

Lupin laughed.  "You did better than I expected.  How many times have you been in the castle before?"

"Oh…. Uh, when I first came here to enroll, and last night.  Dumbledore showed me the map when I first came, but only the main corridors and such are on it."

"Well, no one knows this school better than the Marauders.  You'll learn pretty quickly. Hey, watch out for that step."

Harry hopped over it.  "Yeah, I got stuck in that before.  Completely humiliating.  It took me ten minutes to get myself out, then Professor Tome came."

"Professor Tome?"  

"Yeah, he was the first teacher I met here.  Ancient Runes professor, right?"

Remus nodded.  "I'm in both his classes.  I take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy."

"Oh, he teaches both?"

Remus nodded.  "He used to be a wizarding archaeologist, so he's fascinated with Runes.  He teaches Arithmancy on the side."

As they entered the Great Hall, Harry asked, "Huh, can you switch into one of those classes?"

As Remus led Harry to a seat, he shrugged.  "Probably not Ancient Runes, you build year by year.  But Arithmancy is easier to pick up.  Why?"

"I _hate_ Divination – I only took it because Ron was and I had no idea what I wanted to take.  I like Care of Magical Creatures, though.  What about the other classes?  I haven't heard much about them."

Remus mulled it over, picking idly at the edge of the table.  "There's Muggle Studies, as well.  None of us are in it, though.  You know, it's rumored that'll be a mandatory class pretty soon, what with everything going on."  Remus paused, the continued. 

"Transfiguration is pretty good, McGonagall's strict, but she's a good teacher.  History of Magic is boring – Binns teaches that, he's a ghost."

Harry pretended to choke on his toast.  "A _ghost_ teaches?"

"Yeah, he died in my mum's third year, but kept right on teaching.  You'd think it'd be a cool class, but Binns puts everyone to sleep."  

Harry shook his head as he gulped down his orange juice.  "What about Charms?  I like that class."

Remus waved to a passing boy.  "Oh, Flitwick teaches it.  He's about three feet tall and almost obscenely cheerful.  He's a really good teacher, too."

Between Remus's bites of bacon, Harry inquired, "What about Defense Against the Dark Arts – that my favorite."

Remus shrugged.  "The teachers change pretty often for that – after all, those with Dark Arts experience are being rapidly recruited for the war.  Last year our teacher left around Christmas and was replaced by Professor Figg.  I guess we'll have her again."

Harry spotted Sirius and James as they strolled across the threshold, still looking very much asleep.  Remus only glanced at them as they sat down, not seeming surprised.

"Good morning, you two."  Harry offered.

James answered around his bite of bacon, "G' mornin'."  Sirius just grunted sleepily and took a swig of orange juice.

Harry felt a bit uncomfortable, but Remus gave him an understanding look.  

Done with his meal, he twirled his fork a bit and looked around.  Lily hadn't shown yet.

Remus piped up, "You guys left Wormtail, _again_?"

James ignored the question, but Sirius grinned.  "What, he can't get himself up?"

Harry frowned.  "But will he be late for classes?"

James fielded the question.  "Probably not, but if he does maybe he'll learn to set his alarm."

"You're just bitter because you fell flat on your face tripping over his trunk this morning."  Sirius grinned maniacally.

"Glad to know it's not just me." Harry muttered under his breath.  Remus heard it anyway and sniggered.

James growled good-naturedly.  "I did not _trip_, I was _pushed_, if you recall correctly. Over something that shouldn't've been in the middle of the room!"

Remus grinned, "Not that you're bitter, mind."

The Marauders were all unhappy to see that they had Transfiguration first.  

Sirius gloomily explained to Harry as they made their way to McGonagall's old classroom.  (Harry was disconcerted to find it on the floor above where he knew it to be; her class had always stayed in the same place before.)

"McGonagall makes it difficult to pull a prank-"  Sirius began.

"Not that we're not up to the challenge." James interrupted.

Sirius nodded absentmindedly, his hand gliding along the stone wall as they walked.  "But she doles out the worst punishments, so we have to wait for something really worth it if we want to do something."

Harry grinned.  "And what did you want to do today?"

Remus frowned thoughtfully.  "I guess it depends on her mood today."

James whooped suddenly, earning him a hard glare from a passing ghost.  "The worse mood she's in – the worse prank she gets."  He grabbed Remus's arm and turned.  "This way, guys.

Remus explained patiently, "James, however, has no concept of-"

He was cut off by an oily voice Harry would recognize anywhere.

"Oh, a new addition to the Gryffindor pack, Potter?  Black?"

The four turned to see a 16 year old Severus Snape sneering at them, a small group of Slytherins skulking behind him.

Black ignored the comment and glanced at the Slytherins.  "What, you finally rented some friends, Snivellus?  How much did you have to pay?"

Snape scowled even more deeply.  "At least my friends aren't muggle-loving fools, Potter."

Remus countered, "At least ours wash their hair occasionally."

Harry recognized the voice that cut into the conversation – "Boys, don't you have a class to get to?  Well, get on, get on."

Professor Tome's voice brooked no argument.  Snape's group began to move off and Tome looked at them expectantly.  Remus, Harry, and James began to move off, but Sirius just stared at him.

Tome's eyes flashed.  "_Now_, Mr. Black."

Sirius turned and followed them to Transfiguration.

As they entered McGonagall's classroom, the Marauders led Harry towards seats in the back.  James and Sirius sat at the joint desk in front of Remus and Harry.  Sirius was muttering half to himself about Tome ("Who does he think he is?")

Remus jumped on that one.  "Uh… a Professor?"

Sirius huffed and didn't respond.  Remus rolled his eyes and  whispered to Harry the second that Sirius and James were occupied, "Oh, ignore him.  He feels oppressed because he thinks everyone's picking on him because of his family."  He hurried to explain it all to Harry.  "The Black family's a pretty old pureblood family – Slytherin type."

Harry's look softened and he nodded in understanding – he remembered Sirius's awful family.  Remus reassured him anyway.  "Don't worry, he hates them.  He's practically moved in with James's family, spends most of the holidays there– those two are like brothers, won't hear a word against the other unless they bring it up."

Harry's lips upturned.  "Yeah, we were like that, too…."  He trailed off, thinking of Ron and Hermione.  How long would it be before he would see them again?

Remus smiled at him sympathetically.  "It must be tough for you.  Sorry, Daniel, I haven't thought about that."

Harry shrugged, picking at the scratches on his desk absentmindedly.  "It doesn't matter.  I'll be seeing them anyway, during the holidays.  And I'm still writing to them."

Professor McGonagall entered, and the class immediately silenced.

She smiled at them.  "I'm happy to see you all did well on your O.W.L.s – nothing less than I would expect."  She suddenly switched back to her normal, strict tone.

"I am aware that many of you have gotten the impression from other students that your sixth year is the time to… slack off."  She spoke those words as if they left a bad taste in her mouth.  

"Your sixth year is one of the most important in your magical education.  Next year, you'll be taking your N.E.W.T. s and I expect this class to do well again.  I will not tolerate tardiness, unfinished homework, or-"  Her eyes glanced in the direction of the Marauders.  "-misbehavior."

The rest of the class looked somewhat amused by her attempt to lay down the law with the Marauders, but their smothered smiles turned into furiously muffled laughter when the door banged open.

A chubby, ratlike boy stood in the doorway. His face was red and his entire body heaved with exertion.  He looked panicked, and his pale eyes darted to the Marauders with momentary terror.

McGonagall sniffed irritably.  Harry was reminded of her frustration with Neville Longbottom, but tenfold.

"Mr. Pettigrew, as I just finished telling the class, I will not tolerate misbehavior or _lateness_ to my class.  10 points from Gryffindor, and take a seat."

Pettigrew flushed slightly, and took his seat in the very back of the room, noticeably away from the Marauders.  Sirius rolled his eyes, but James muttered, "Don't worry, he'll get over it."

McGonagall continued her lecture, then informed the class that today's lesson would be practice N.E.W.T. level.  The rest of the class groaned, except James and Remus, who were naturals in the class, and the redhead Harry had just noticed.  She was looking at McGonagall, enthralled.

Harry mediated on this as McGonagall directed Lindsey to pass out the transfigured kittens.  She issued directions while Sirius looked up at the ceiling, mouthing words Harry was sure he didn't want to hear. 

They were supposed to try to un-transfigure the kittens to their original forms, but McGonagall refused to tell them what their original forms were.  James absentmindedly turned his kitten into a pair of slippers, an umbrella, and a sea shell.  At first Harry thought he was showing off, but then James whispered to Sirius, "If you just keep guessing, you'll eventually hit on the right one."

Sirius just looked at him crossly, "But how do you _know_ it's the right one?"

Monica and Matilda were desperately trying to keep their kittens from attacking each other, while Lily watched closely.  She offered, "Maybe if you watch what they do…."

Remus had no idea how to go about this assignment, and was thus wrapped up in his own ideas.  He muttered to himself occasionally and twitched his wand, experimenting.  He sent his kitten flying into the air after one of these movements, earning himself a reproving look from McGonagall.  He blushed, and to Harry's amusement, lay down his wand while he thought.

Harry, however, thought he should take the logical path.  He considered the staring animal in front of him.  Well… when transfiguring something, the biggest part was will.  And in Occlumency, the hardest part was forcing what you didn't want away…. 

Willing the item to be something else….  Perhaps if you willed it to be something other than its form, _anything_ else.

Frowning, he waved his wand and lectured the kitten in his mind.  _Listen, you…._  He thought of Ms. Figg's cats and how much he detested them…  Crookshanks meowing outside his dorm all night.  Instinctively, he knew it was working.

He thought of Sirius's animagus form, of his own patronus, of a Hungarian Horntail itching to barbeque him….  At some point, he closed his eyes and got lost….

And McGonagall's voice brought him out.  "Very good start, Mr. Graham."

Harry opened his eyes.  In front of him, a very unusual-looking hand mirror.  The mirror looked exactly like those he saw Parvati and Lavender pull out to check their hair with, only the face of the mirror had random fur growing out and a cat's face.  He reached out to touch it, but it hissed and tried to clamp down on his hand.

Remus was looking at the mirror with wonder, but Sirius just grinned and tried to high-five him.  James, however, threw him an unreadable look.  When class ended, James led Sirius out ahead of everyone, and Peter moved to tail them.

Remus, however, walked with Harry to lead him to Charms.  Harry must've looked somewhat dejected, because Remus grinned and hit him on the arm playfully.  

"Oh, don't mind him.  It's just that Transfiguration is usually his subject."

Harry was bewildered.  "There's nothing to be jealous of!  It was just luck, I'm usually pretty average in Transfiguration."

Remus switched the subject to Charms, but Harry only listened with half-an-ear.  James was jealous of _him?_  It made no sense.  Ever since Harry had entered Hogwarts, people seemed to think that he was just an imitation – and not a particularly good one – of his father.  He had quickly grown to ignore that behavior, and had no small amount of contempt for it now that he had seen Snape's worst memory….

And now that Harry thought about it, a small part of him had always been jealous of his father.

He ended up sitting between Remus and Sirius at the next class.  Sirius was rambling on to Harry, James sitting to his right.  Peter sat in front of Remus.

Sirius grinned, "Hey, Wormtail!  Get enough sleep?"

Peter blushed, but Remus interrupted.  "Sorry about that, Peter, Daniel and I left before them, we didn't know they'd leave you."  Peter nodded, but still looked downcast.

James didn't seem to be paying much attention, and he stared at the redhead two seats in front of him.  Sirius laughed and barraged Harry with questions as the Ravenclaws filed in.  

"Where'd you go to school before?"

Daniel answered with practiced ease.  "I went to London's Academy for the first few years."  

"Why'd you leave?"  Sirius loved to ask questions, but didn't look particularly interested in the answers.

"I moved to be with my godfather and he wanted me to change schools."  Harry's mind wasn't on his answer, he was scanning the incoming Ravenclaws for Dennis.

Remus rescued Harry, "For God's sake, stop interrogating Daniel, it's his first day!"

Peter smirked.  "There'll be all year to interrogate him."  _Well, he got over it quick._  When Ron and Hermione and he were angry with one another, they wouldn't speak for hours or even days on end.  In the background, Flitwick began to again tell them how important this year would be for Charms.

Sirius laugh still sounded like a bark.  "I vote Veritaserum."

James put in, "I vote torture, Spurned Witches' Curse, do you reckon?"

An amused voice interrupted them.  "And what, exactly, would you know about the Spurned Witches' Curse, Mr. Potter?"

End of Chapter Eight

A/N:  End of all twelve pages of it!  Would you believe that I'm SICK?  I hate being sick.  So I've been stuck home yesterday and today, staring at the ceiling morosely and being bored out of my skull.   And conveniently deciding against doing homework.  

Oh, and my homecoming was Saturday night, and I was sick for that, too!  I've been looking forward to it for months, and I went to it sick!  Plus, the DJ was awful and they kept playing bad songs.  And some girl took off with my black shawl, and left me her _obviously different_ one; AND no one spiked the punch!  What kind of a homecoming was that?

Oh, for those who don't know (I don't know how global homecoming is.  I wouldn't expect much, seeing few countries are into American football.)  Homecoming is a formal dance that is held traditionally on the weekend of a school's first home football game.  It's a big deal, because other than prom, which is only open to the upper two years, it's the only formal dance for most schools.


	9. Anger

A/N:  Sorry this one took so long, but we're getting up to the point where I'm only writing a few chapters ahead.  That fact, combined with the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday and the fact that my CRAZY teachers are torturing us every day beforehand… ::deep breat:::  It's all good, but I'm backing off for a few weeks while I study endlessly for a big round of tests and projects.

Hope you enjoy!

_An amused voice interrupted them.  "And what, exactly, would you know about the Spurned Witches' Curse, Mr. Potter?"…_

CHAPTER EIGHT

Harry fought the urge to answer, and James grinned cheekily even as he blushed scarlet and the class laughed.  Flitwick smiled gently at them and went back to opening his lesson.

However, not even halfway through his first sentence, the door opened and a Ravenclaw girl strode in – she had wavy brown hair that she could probably sit on, and Harry immediately recognized her as the girl in front of him at Quality Quidditch Supplies.  Her gaze swept by him for only a second, yet Harry felt she reminded him of someone ….

The girl ignored Flitwick and haughtily strode to a seat on the far side of the room, her shining waves trailing after her.  Dennis Averallo walked in, watching his feet the entire time.  He looked upset, and Harry felt a twinge of sympathy.  

Flitwick nodded to Dennis, but sent a more firm look to the girl.  "Ten points of Ravenclaw for your lateness, Mr. Averallo, Miss Blair."

Blair shot Dennis, who was trying to find a seat, an extremely nasty look.  Harry felt his anger rising and caught Dennis's attention.  He grinned 0and motioned to the seat behind him.  Dennis, looking relieved and shocked, sat behind him.

Sirius and James frowned at Harry's actions, but he barely noticed.  Remus merely looked curious.  

Flitwick gave them the customary lecture and asked them to take notes as he reviewed.  Remus dutifully jotted down what Flitwick wrote (Peter couldn't catch most of it, and spent half the class craning over Remus's paper.)  

Harry noticed that James and Sirius didn't write a single thing – mainly just doodled on their parchments.  Harry noticed the initials "L.E." appeared several times on James's paper.  By the time Flitwick was done, Harry's hand had begun to cramp. 

Finally, Flitwick had a pretty blonde Ravenclaw pass out cages with doves in them.  Flitwick squeaked from on top of his stack of books, "Now, I know you all know how to Vanish creatures.  This year, I want you to try to vanish them one body part at a time.  For example,"  He pointed his wand at the dove, announced the spell, and suddenly the dove's wings were missing.  The class oohed appropriately, and he continued to vanish the dove piece by piece until it was completely Vanished.  He then restored it with a wave of his wand. 

"Now form small groups, I want you all to help each other.  I'll be walking around if you have any questions."

The Marauders and Harry began to maneuver their desks so they were all facing each other.  Harry was aware of Dennis's hesitation behind him, so he grabbed Dennis's desk and pulled it next to his.  He ignored James and Sirius, who both had distinct frowns on their faces.

He turned his desk perpendicular to Dennis's and demanded to know what happened at the beginning of class.  Behind him, the Marauders were practicing on their doves, but he knew they were listening.

Dennis cringed.  "Oh.  That.  It's nothing, no big deal."  He looked so downtrodden Harry felt his temper rising again.

"Wrong.  Big deal." He responded cuttingly, sending a cool glance to Blair across the room.  She was ignoring him, but it made him feel better.  Dennis bit his lip.

"She was trying to pick on me, nothing new.  She's got this thing, I mean…" He looked vaguely panicked.  "She does a lot of experiments and she's really smart, brilliant actually –" 

Harry felt his stomach jar – this sounded like James and Sirius's line of reasoning.  He gritted his teeth.

Dennis was still babbling on "-And she knows it so she kind of gets superior and-"

Harry ground out, "I don't care how bloody smart she is, I'll - "

Before he could finish his threat, Remus nudged Harry a bit hesitantly.  "Daniel?  Flitwick's coming over."

Harry took one look at Dennis's confused face and immediately felt ashamed for his outburst.  "Thanks, Remus."

He took a deep breath and Vanished and returned the creature once to make sure he had the charm right.  He scrutinized it carefully, then jabbed his wand directly at the dove's beak, as Hermione had shown him.  The spell worked, but the bird's entire head was gone, not just the beak.

During this time, Flitwick had snuck up on him.  "Very good, Mr. Graham.  I was coming over to make sure you were up to this lesson, but you seem to have it down."

Harry felt the heat rushing to his face, and he was very aware of the Marauders' eavesdropping.  Now he had to admit that Flitwick had it wrong…. "No, sir, actually I Vanished too much of it.  I was just trying for the beak."

Flitwick took a close look at the headless dove and nodded.  "That's all right, Mr. Graham.  It's better that you over-do it than under-do it on a spell like this.  I'll think you'll be able to perfect it quickly."

He moved on to Remus and Harry turned back to Dennis, now beet red.  "Well, that was fun."

Dennis smiled at him, genuinely now.  "You're doing well, I'm probably going to blow mine up."

Harry gestured with his hand.  "You try it, then."

Dennis bit his lip, as was his habit, and jabbed the wand at the dove, nearly poking its eye out.  Harry grabbed it before it could fly away, chirping indignantly.  He grinned at Dennis, "Well, that was definitely a good wand movement."

Dennis grinned through his dark blush and didn't seem to notice the titters of the groups next to them.  "Uh, yeah, I'll try that again."

This time, he aimed to the side and managed to vanish a wing almost perfectly.  Dennis tried to perfect his spell while Harry turned back to his own dove, and found the spell much easier when he wasn't so angry.

However, Peter didn't appear to be able to Vanish his dove at all.  Sirius came out of his brooding state long enough to try to help him, but he didn't seem to be a very good teacher.

"No, Peter, you git, you're going to end up killing the bird that way - "  

Peter seemed awfully embarrassed and Remus finally decided to step in.  "Peter – you're saying it wrong again, it's like this–"

James seemed preoccupied watching Lily perfectly transfigure her dove.  She was smiling at her success and Harry was again struck by how genuine she seemed, especially compared with the Marauders.  He felt a twinge of guilt.  They hadn't been so bad, really, and they had been wonderful to him.  But the image of Snape's sneering face interrupted that thought….

At that moment, the class was interrupted by a loud explosion – someone had blown up their desk a few seats ahead of them.  As the smoke cleared around the area and Flitwick squeakily issued calls for order, Harry saw the blonde girl who had passed out the doves, soot-covered and looking distraught.  She was tearfully explaining to Professor Flitwick that she had no idea what she had done, but Harry noted Blair looked pleased.  His eyes dropped to her wand, which was positioned on her lap to point directly where the exploded desk had been.

As if sensing his stare, she turned and met his gaze.  She looked confused for a second – then her pale eyes grew cold and she smirked at him.  He just gave her a disgusted look and turned back to his dove.  He felt her stare long after he looked away, but couldn't find it in him to care.

By the end of the lesson, Harry seemed to be on par with Lily.  He managed to Vanish the dove piece by piece perfectly.  Dennis still had difficulty with Vanishing the dove's eyes, but he also seemed to be doing well.

Flitwick assigned them homework and the class began to shift and gather their books, ready to leave.

Harry walked with Dennis to the door, following the Marauders.  They chatted a moment and bid farewell as the Ravenclaws headed off to their electives and the Gryffindors went down to the Great Hall for lunch.  He ran to catch up with the Marauders as they entered a wider hall, receiving a welcoming smile from Remus.  Sirius and James ignored him momentarily, involved in a whispered discussion.  Harry saw James point his wand and mutter a few soft words-

A sudden BOOM sounded and smoke began rolling down the hallway, just as Harry grabbed Remus's cloak and pulled him down.  Harry swore quietly to himself - couldn't he catch a break?

As the smoke cleared, Professor McGonagall strode onto the scene, her eyes flashing and reminding Harry of Fred and George's run-in with Hermione the previous year.

"POTTER!  BLACK!"  Her voice rang throughout the hall and a few dozen students stayed to watch.  Most were completely soot-covered and some looked quite rattled, however a few were cracking admiring smiles.

James and Sirius ignored McGonagall.  James called out jeeringly, "All right there, Parkinson?"  A few people laughed, but most of them still seemed to be confused.  Harry suddenly spotted the target, a short boy who looked to be in third or fourth year.  Harry couldn't tell any more, as the boy was completely covered in soot, and the explosion that had landed next to him seemed to have ripped his robes and books up considerably.  He bent over to pick them up, but fell flat on his face – his shoes had been tied together.  Remus had said that Sirius and James's behavior had worsened steadily from fifth to sixth year, culminating with Sirius's near-fatal prank on Snape.  But despite Remus's warnings, Harry still felt shocked by the maliciousness in this display.

The entire hall laughed this time, with the exception of Harry and McGonagall, who took a second look at Harry's revolted expression, before her anger began to burn again.  

Remus laughed half-heartedly beside him, and Harry dug his elbow into his friend's side.  He leaned in and whispered through gritted teeth, "What the hell did they do that for?"

Remus sighed.  "He's a Slytherin, his father's in Azkaban, he was caught Muggle-hunting with a band of Dark Lord supporters last year."

"What's that got to do with _him?_"

McGonagall was by now a sight to see.  Seeing her face, all off the students but the Marauders and Harry fled, and Parkinson was helped out by a nearby Slytherin girl.  As they left the hall, McGonagall rounded on the Marauders.  Harry could've sworn she was breathing fire.

_"Just what do you think you're doing?!!"  _Seeing the look on her face and remembering Parkinson's shell-shocked appearance and ruined supplies, Harry's stomach squirmed with guilt.  Surely he could've done something to stop the prank….

"50 points off of Gryffindor each, Black, Potter!  And detention every night for two weeks!  You could've seriously injured someone!"

Sirius muttered to James, "Just a Slytherin, jeez."  He had meant it for only James's ears, but McGonagall heard it, nonetheless.  She swelled furiously and spat out, "Another 50 points!  And you're going to pay for the replacement of Mr. Parkinson's things!  Report to me after dinner for detention!"

McGonagall was regaining her lost equilibrium and had lowered her voice, but she still looked about to skin them alive.  Sirius moved as if to leave, but she stopped him.  "No, you're not going down to lunch there – report to Dumbledore's office and we'll see what detention he thinks will fit you!"  

When Sirius and James made no move to leave, she snapped again, "Now!"  They skulked off, looking as if they had been scolded for dropping a dungbomb as opposed to seriously endangering another student.  He was furious with himself for it, but deep down Harry was worried – would they get suspended?

She turned to the three remaining boys.  "Pettigrew, Lupin – Great Hall, now.  Mr. Graham, you stay here."

_Uh-oh._

Harry had had McGonagall's lectures in the past, but never for something so forwardly malicious.  He found himself staring at his feet, but he raised his eyes to meet hers when she spoke.

Her voice was startlingly soft, and she sounded a bit hoarse.  "Mr. Graham, I cannot dictate what company you keep, but I'd strongly advise associating too closely with the Marauders this year."  She swallowed and her voice began to regain its strength and practical tone.  
  


"While I must admit they are clever, they do not share your values on what friendship or kindness is."  She scrutinized him closely, "I pride myself in the idea that I have students with your disposition.  Do not let the actions of others guide you… especially Potter's, when he's around poor Miss Evans…"  She seemed to be talking more to herself now.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she sent him to the Great Hall for lunch.

He didn't really feel like sitting with Remus and Peter (or the gaggle of admirers around them right now), but he wasn't sure how his actions now would dictate their friendship later.  He reluctantly made his way to Remus's side and sat down.  Ignoring the cooing entourage with ease, he began to eat.

Peter was chattering excitedly, and Harry had to fight back the urge to punch him for being an annoying git.  He missed Ron and Hermione a lot right now.

"James was brilliant, wasn't her?  The way he aimed that spell… Well, after that, don't see how Evans can resist James any more."

Harry set down his fork suddenly, and found himself saying, "Do you actually believe for a minute that she'll buy into that stupid act?  He could've killed that Parkinson boy-"

Peter looked slightly cowed, but took one look at the whispering crowd around them and seemed to gain his courage back.  "So what, it's just another Slytherin - "  The crowd sniggered inanely.

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up.  "_Who cares?_  So he's a Slytherin, what does it matter?  He didn't do anything to James or Sirius, and they got in huge trouble and lost a load of points – for what?  To impress some girl?"  Harry grabbed his bag and stormed out of the hall moodily.  He heard Remus call out but ignored him and stormed up the grand staircase.  

Hearing footsteps following behind him, he growled, "Go away, Remus!"

A clear, musical voice stopped him.  "I'm not Remus."  His mind supplied unwanted imagery at the sound of her voice.

                    _No!  No, not Harry!_

Taking a deep breath, he turned around, and found himself staring in a pair of emerald eyes.

End of Chapter Nine

A/N:  Sorry about the length, but I wanted this one to be on its own.  Don't worry, don't worry, the Marauders will become more likable as this goes on, a major reason being Harry.  

Ahem.  But my idea of this is that the Marauders didn't change that day after O.W.L.s by the lake.  I think they kept going until James got a real shock to his system – Sirius's prank on Snape, which will be a pivotal part of this year.  James began to change for the better that night, and matured.  Sirius began to mature, but he had a lot of problems and getting himself thrown into Azkaban didn't help matters.  I see the elder Black as a dark and conflicted character, and I want to do a proper lead up to that.

Erikalya Arvanesse

2003-10-22

8

Signed

Hey if you're sick you don't have school meaning you have more time to type giving us a faster update right?

Nice try.  I'm working on it, though.

Vicious Lily

2003-10-21

8

Signed

No one spiked your punch? Christ, that's the best part! *wink*   
  
Nice chapter. Why was there a _ after a Professor's name?   
  
Erm... get well soon, and update fast!  
  
~V

Tell me about – it was spiked with Busch last year and we all had a hell of a lot more fun.  This year…eh.

Sorry about that – I was tired and didn't really care who the professor was, cause they're not going to be there now.  I fixed it, though.

Thanks for the well wishes, and I'm working on the updates.

Duchessa

2003-10-23

8

Signed

*grin* nice chapter. You written Harry very well, this is actually one of the fics where I can confuse canon for. JK Rowling and her tendencies to late updates...After 3-4 years of waiting, can you blame me for mixing canon & fanon together?  
Will there be a DADA class next? It'll give Harry a chance to show off. And how about Quidditch? Dennis too...  
'James was jealous of him? It made no sense. Ever since Harry had entered Hogwarts, people seemed to think that he was just an imitation – and not a particularly good one – of his father. He had quickly grown to ignore that behavior, and had no small amount of contempt for it now that he had seen Snape's worst memory…'  
*wince* I got that feeling too...specially when Sirius is involved...I love the mutt, but he can be a prat. Let harry outdone his father a bit more will you! Will harry develop a friendship with Lily? I hope he will.  
UPDATE

You made my day several times over.  I think I'm blushing….  Yes, I do the same thing some times, but when it gets down to it and I find a really good fic, I know I'll never really do it for long.  Rowling's gift is too unique.

Yeah, Harry will show off, that's what I love watching him do.  No – it will not be with a Patronus.  Quidditch will be later, and Harry will keep his promise to Dennis.

Yeah, I adore Sirius, but he did have a dark side that continued into adulthood, at least to me.  I really want to see those two prats taken down a peg, believe me, so you'll get your wishes.  I'm not fond of Snape, either, so you can watch out for that.  Harry will develop a friendship with Lily very soon, because Lily rocks.

Thanks for your review!  I just wish I had more like yours!

MedNar

2003-10-24

8

Signed

Ah, it was a good chapter! Don't worry 'bout it. Hope you're feeling better.   
  
I like how James was jealous of Harry--it got me thinking. he probably would be, because he doesn't know Harry's his son or anything. Can't wait to see more!!

Thanks, I'm feeling better, mostly because I got a couple of my friends sick, too.  We really need to work on that sharing soda thing.

But JESSICA got HERSELF sick, not that I'm going to yell at her anymore for her STUPIDITY.

Yeah, James is looking a bit green, and this won't be the only thing.  Little git.  I love him to death and want to hit him – wonder if Lily felt that way?  

padfootrox2003

2003-10-25

7

Signed

i under stand your athors note. my dad died 2 years ago.

You, too, huh?  It wasn't so much the death for me…. Well, of course it was, but I was rather young.  I don't remember much, but apparently I was pretty messed up for a couple of years.

The thing that really rankled me is that he didn't want me to know he was dying (cancer), so I didn't find out until after his death and funeral and such, but that was because my mother didn't know, either.  I still know very little about him, and that's a big part of what bugs me.  My mother still won't talk about him much, and I resent her for it a little.  But in the long run she's been an amazing, highly successful person and she's encouraged me to be the same way.  Looking around at the total jerks some of my friends have to live with, I am one lucky girl.

Siri Kat

2003-10-27

8

Signed

Wow!! I think that this might be the best time travel fic that I've read! I mean,, the marauders didn't sit with Harry on the way to Hogwart, Harry has another friend, AND he doesn't act too wierd! Please continue ASAP!

Thank you!  Yes, I've read a lot of the other fics and have intentionally avoided as many clichés as possible.  I'm trying to give Harry some credit, here, because he acts like a real idiot in some of them I've read.

NightSpear

2003-10-05

7

Signed

I just read the first few chapters up to this one, and I'll just do a general review for this wonderful story that I'm glad to have found.  
  
"I'll probably put more focus on Harry's dark side that usual, his lying talent (and how it's bothering him), his thirst for revenge, his manipulative and sadistic side Rowling's given us such startling glimpses of, and over all, his amazing will power."  
  
Good. Please do. There are so many people who stubbornly continue to believe that Harry is very much an essentially good and not-so-innocent-but-only-because-fate's-been-mean-to-him kind of person. While I agree that he is more good than evil, if it's possible to define a person as such, and that he's not as horribly sadistic & stuff as some people mark him, those "startling glimpses" of his darker side is really intriguing, and I'm certainly looking forward to seeing how you play it out--it'll only get more interesting since he's with people who have died/betrayed said dead party.  
  
First, though, why is he being sent back? If you explained this, please tell me, and I'll apologize for not reading carefully enough. But for now, it doesn't really make much sense to me. Secondly, in chapter (2? I think that was it) you said that Harry packed away the lute that Hagrid gave him...I know you meant flute, but it made me pause a bit and see a strange mental image of Harry strumming a lute in front of a snarling 3-headed dog. It's not a big deal, though.  
  
Anyway, it's a great story so far. Please update soon!

I love you.  Your long review made me feel a LOT better… I'm so happy!  I love your review!  Can I keep you?

Harry has his "Slytherin" side, which I've always liked, and Rowling's kept us in tune with that.  Mouthing off to Tom Riddle and Snape, saying rude things about Malfoy's mother, and being ready to truly kill Sirius at first all come to mind.  But I do believe that idea that Harry is essentially pure, and that no one can go through any life, much less his, unmarked.  Many people have dark sides that don't come out because they don't need to, because they never find themselves in a situation where it would matter.  Just, Harry's dark side is a heck of a lot scarier than anyone else's.

The thing about Harry is he has such an ability to love and I think that's part of what makes him hate.  He feel emotions very deeply.  He can make me cry with what he feels for his friends but truly terrify me with his utter hate. 

The fifth book was WOW – I loved him telling Ron he was dreaming about Ron's Quidditch playing, but attempting the Cruciatus on Lestrange blew my mind.  Still, he couldn't complete it and his love for Sirius – wow.  I love this boy.

And yes, it'll get more interesting.  Didn't you wonder why Lestrange (Bellatrix) hasn't shown?  There's a reason, and it will make Harry very, very angry.  But not for a while, though…

Oh, the lute?   Truthfully, I didn't know what a lute was – I guess it's a miniature harp from what you said, but I thought it was the "posh Euro" term for a flute.  I'll check my book again later – thank you!

david 

2003-10-21 

7 

Anonymous

first of all the movies never siad that lily and the marauders weren't all giffindors secondly you need to read the first book james being a chaser is a common misconception brought on my conveenance in fanfictions that harry goes back in time in and people simply forgetting also acording to hagrid in the first book lily and james were head boy and girl in the fith she breaks her own canon if you don't belive me check and i'm not talking about the movie i mean the BOOK i'm sorry if i came off as rude but people should at least double check the facts when writeing these things

David:  Sweetheart, _I_ don't mean to be rude, but you're an idiot.

I never said that the movie said Lily/MWPP weren't all Gryffindors.  Other fanfictions often make that mistake and I wished to say ahead of time that I would not.

I don't know what the hell you meant to say when you wrote "conveenance", which isn't a word… but James IS a chaser.  _J.K. Rowling has said so.  _The movie said he was a seeker, she was asked about it in an interview (find it here) and she said they got it wrong, and that James was a chaser.

No, she did not break her own canon.  A lot of people thought she had made a mistake by saying James was not a prefect but was Head Boy.  She responded that you don't have to be a prefect to be a Head Boy or Girl.  It's her school.  She would know..

I apologize for offending anyone with this response, but I have no patience for this sort of thing.  I enjoy constructive criticism because it helps me, and it also makes me feel that you were paying more attention, and possibly enjoying it more.

But I don't appreciate flames, or borderline insults like this review.  I don't appreciate being told off for messing up the history when the person scolding me can't even spell "Gryffindor" correctly, or be bothered to use punctuation.

Bitchy?  Maybe.  I'm not sorry for the way I feel, but I am truly sorry if anyone is upset by the response.  I'll be happy to discuss, hopefully with some intelligence this time, how I should have or could have responded with anyone, but for now I'm going to get back to my Spanish homework.  (Francisco won the contest and he's going to Chicago!  Goodie goodie!)  


End file.
